Carry On
by Eternity's Ghost
Summary: Survival (noun): 1. the act or fact of surviving, especially under adverse or unusual circumstances. 2. a person or thing that survives or endures, especially an ancient custom, observance, belief, or the like. Stories of survival, whether it be fighting for your life or simply bringing new life into the world. Because that's what were all born to do: survive.


**_The Hunger Games_: Let the Games Begin**

I stand calmly at my platform, watching the other tributes. While they size up their competition or lock eyes with team mates or analyse the supplies overflowing from the Cornucopia, my face remains a stony mask. As my mentor had taught me, I keep my features carefully blank, betraying nothing. My level, lethally calm stare is filled with toxin, threatening anyone who dares catch my eye. My body is relaxed, but inside I am coiled like a snake, ready to strike. Just as my mentor, Dazi, had drilled into my head from day one.

"Don't let them know what you're feeling," he had said. "If they know that you're hesitant or pity them, they'll use it against you. Don't make any allies, because in the end you can only rely on yourself. Never hesitate. Never feel pity."

_I'll make you proud, Dazi,_ I think.

My eyes sweep over the other tributes. As I take in each of their figures and the emotions playing across their eyes, I try to predict which resources they'll take and what kind of a threat they'll be. The boy from Six, for example, keeps his weight on his toes, ready to run. His eyes repeatedly flicker toward three things - the other tribute from Six, the bow and quiver, and a wrapped package that I can only presume is a loaf of bread. The muscles in his thin arms seem sturdy and taught. Most likely a pretty good shot. Determination, concentration, and even a little fear flash across his bright green eyes. I can tell he'll probably be able to swoop in like a hawk, snatch up the supplies he's eyeing, and escape with maybe a cut or two. The bread is the only food he's opting for because - judging by his build and the way his eyes linger on the bow - he can hunt to survive, and he's done it before. However, relying on the wildlife in the Games is a costly decision, a gamble for his life.

Most of the tributes seem to have the same plan, letting one grab something while the other flees into the trees, where they'll rendezvous. However, the pair from Four and the boy from Ten particularly catch my eye.

The male Four tribute is bulky and well-muscled, giving me the impression of an age around seventeen. His arms are about as thick as my head, and his chest looks rock hard. His eyes are steely and almost blood-thirsty. It's like he _wants_ this battle, the first bloodbath that kills so many. It's obvious that he's strong, and his eyes are practically glued to a huge sword, but his bulk has him at a disadvantage. He would most definitely use his brawn against the other tributes, and I'd guess his endurance level is pretty high, but I'm more agile. I could outrun him and still have energy to keep going, not to mention I could ascend a tree quicker. I make a mental note to be careful around him, though. He's dangerous, no doubt about it.

The female tribute from the same District is less bulky, but has a feminine muscle about her. She's almost as tall as her counterpart, with long legs and a tight stomach, and looks to be about sixteen. There's a dangerous, determined glint in her blue eyes. No doubt she's fast, but I can't tell for how long. Coming from the mountains, I could run for yards without tiring thanks to my larger-than-usual lungs and heart. It's easy to tell if a person has these enlarged vitals - their chests are slightly wider then the norm - but this girl has nothing of the sort. I do notice her eyes are just as blank as mine, and though they wander idly over the mountain of goods, they always linger at a leather satchel and two Dao swords.

I curl my lip. _Those supplies are mine!_

I push down my vehemence and analyse the boy from Ten. He's small and thin, probably only as tall as my shoulders. He only looks to be about twelve years old. He's visibly shaking and his face is white as a sheet. He keeps shooting terrified glances at the two Four tributes, and each one is met with a honey-covered smile of reassurance. Either the powerful pair persuaded him to join them, promising protection through the Games - was this boy really that naïve? - or they forced him to. As a glance around at the tributes once more I notice that both tributes from Twelve and the girl from Two are also glancing over at them.

_This is going to be trickier than I thought,_ I realise, narrowing my eyes a little. _With so many tributes in one group, I'll have to be extra careful. Each move has to count._

I glance up at the sky and take a deep breath. _"Kill or be killed, kill or be killed, kill or be killed..."_ The phrase repeats itself over and over, a silent mantra that speeds up my heart rate and sends adrenaline pulsing through me. The loud crash of a gong shatters the still air in the Arena, signalling the start of the Games, and I'm off. Everywhere within a half metre's distance erupts into chaos. Kids hurl themselves at each other, blood stains the packed sand, and the bloodbath goes off with a bang.

I dodge flying fists, leap over corpses, and duck wildly swung swords. The supplies are disappearing fast, and I can see the girl from Four - I think her name is Kana - heading toward the satchel and swords she was eyeing earlier. I bare my teeth in an almost feral snarl, rage building up inside me. She would _not_ walk away alive with those supplies. I wouldn't allow it.

I duck under an elegant cross-cut meant to take off my head and deliver a swift but jarring kick to my attacker's stomach, a buff, tanned boy who probably spent his whole life working on a farm. The boy stumbles back, winded, and the two large swords hit the ground with a thud. I quickly snatch up the swords and, dropping down to the ground, sweep my legs out in an arc that knocks my enemy on his back. In a flash I right myself, and then drive one of the swords straight into the boy's heart, killing him instantly. Blood gurgles up around the edges of the blade, but there is no life behind it.

Leaving the body impaled on the sword, I spin around and scope out the girl from Four. A lot of the fighting took place in the first rush at the Cornucopia, and now many of the tributes are vanishing into the forest, either empty-handed or wearing satisfied looks. A numerous amount of corpses litter the soil. Many of the merchandise spread out around the giant golden structure's base is now gone, the satchel and swords included, to my disdain.

A clang of metal on metal snaps my attention toward the trees. On the edge of the clearing, the tribute I'm looking for is locked in combat with another girl called Nyka, presumably over the satchel. Relief washes over me. My two most vital supplies are not lost yet, and since their holder is too busy fighting, it wouldn't be hard to swoop in and steal it right out from under her nose.

No, that's irrational. There's no doubt she'd see me, and then I'd have two blood-thirsty tributes to fight off, but she'd still be out there if I did. I look over the impaled body of the tribute I had slaughtered earlier and find a bow and a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. I can't help a small grin. _The gods must be favouring me today,_ I think as I slowly remove the new weapon from the corpse. I strap the quiver onto my back and string an arrow. The wood of the bow is a little too soft for me, but it will do.

I carefully aim for Nyka, knowing killing her will not only eliminate some of my competition but also surprise Kana, waiting for a clear shot. The two girls begin to circle around each other, and Nyka's throat quickly comes in range of my arrow. I release, and the arrow makes virtually so sound as it flies through the air. Nyka's eyes widen right before she is flung backward, my arrow protruding from her neck. Kana stumbles back, shocked, and I have another arrow strung in a matter of seconds. She, too, falls down dead, this arrow lodged in the back of her skull.

_Perfect,_ I think. _Three less tributes to worry about, plus whoever else died._ Fast as the wind, I dash across the area and scoop up the satchel and Dao swords, the taste of victory already on my tongue. _Let the Games begin._


End file.
